The air was thick with smoke. Hayato's senses were assaulted by the burning stench that crept into his lungs, gnawing at his throat and making his stomach churn. His eyes snapped open, and his mind scrambled to make sense of the overwhelming scene before him.
The crackling flames devoured everything in sight. The wooden beams of the house, once sturdy and welcoming, were now nothing but burning husks. The heat radiated in waves, scorching the air, but Hayato's skin—blackened and seared by countless battles—remained untouched. Fire had no power over him. Not anymore.
But then there was the smell. The unmistakable odor of burning meat.
His heart stopped. His eyes darted to the source. Through the smoke and haze, he saw the crumpled, unmoving figure of his mother. The fire had taken its toll on her too quickly. She had always been frail, but now she lay there, a shadow of the woman who once cradled him in her arms.
"Mother!" His voice, raw and desperate, broke through the crackling inferno. He staggered forward, but his legs betrayed him, heavy with the weight of his past and the haunting memories that flooded him in that instant.
A twisted, guttural laugh echoed from the darkness.
"I see you've survived, little demon," came a cold voice that made Hayato's blood run cold. It was him. The one who had never stopped tormenting him. His father.
The figure of Hayato's father, cloaked in shadow, emerged from the smoke. The man who had twisted his son into something both human and monstrous. The man who had sought to break him in every possible way. And now, he stood before him, the very embodiment of his twisted ambitions.
"You've failed again," Hayato growled, his voice barely a whisper over the flames. His hands clenched into fists, rage swelling in his chest. That man—his father—had once tried to buy his childhood friend from her demented parents, trying to break him by turning her into an object, a possession. But Hayato had defied him every time.
This time, though... It was different. This time, Hayato wasn't the same fragile boy he used to be.
His father chuckled darkly. "You still don't understand, do you? You were always meant to be a tool. Your mother was a liability, and I… I am the one who decides what lives and what dies."
With a cold, calculating step, he gestured to the fire. "You were always a failure, Hayato. But you never broke. Not like she did."
The words felt like daggers to his heart. Mother. She had been the last anchor, the one person who had shown him any semblance of love. And now, the flames had taken her.
But Hayato wasn't finished. Not by a long shot. His body, though scarred and torn, was a vessel of unrelenting power. Flames couldn't harm him. He had grown stronger over the years, each battle making him more resistant to the pain, more hardened against the world. His father, the man who sought to destroy him, had underestimated just how far Hayato had come.
With a roar, Hayato's demonic power surged to life. His skin darkened, and his eyes blazed like molten gold, the demonic energy flooding his body. The heat from the fire only made him feel more alive.
"Enough." His father's voice faltered slightly, sensing the surge of energy from his son. But the man didn't retreat; instead, he smirked, his face twisted with contempt.
"You'll never be more than a weapon, boy. Do you hear me?" His father's hands crackled with energy, preparing for the final blow.
But Hayato didn't flinch. He never would again.
As his father unleashed a burst of dark energy, Hayato dodged it effortlessly, his wings—black, jagged, and burning with a dark fire—unfurling behind him. In a flash, he was on his father, and with a single swipe of his clawed hand, the older demon was thrown backward into the flames.
"You were never my father," Hayato muttered, his voice steady and cold, a stark contrast to the raging fire around them. "And I was never your weapon."
The flames roared louder, as if in agreement. Hayato watched his father struggle within the inferno, a twisted figure consumed by his own hatred. But there was no satisfaction in Hayato's heart. His father had already destroyed everything he had cared about. What was one more moment of agony?
With a final look at the woman who had raised him, Hayato turned and walked away from the inferno.
The world awaited him.